nothing will every be bad again

anonymous asked:

a ballet oneshot? hansy, lavender x cormac, daphne x harry anyone of those ships would make a+++ content and bickering

i’m not going to make this a oneshot, but i’m going to write a nice little headcanon for lavender x cormac with this prompt cause i totally see it.

  • after the war, lavender just wanted to get away. 
  • for as long as she could, anyway. 
  • with her new furry little problem, her old life always found a way to sneak up on her with every full moon.
  • it was frustrating; it was a curse she could never be free from.
  • but the only thing that seemed to make her feel beautiful again was ballet.
  • she started taking muggle classes to escape her pain and to make her stronger. physically and mentally. 
  • she quickly became one of the best in her class, even though she started so late in her life. her instructor told her she was a natural.
  • nothing could make a ballet class bad for lavender, until one day she saw a familiar face walk through the door. 
  • she was stretching at the bar when he came in. 
  • he was wearing sweats and looked completely out of place. he looked like he was annoyed to be there.
  • she felt a scowl form on her face, and she stopped stretching to cross her arms. he looked up at her at the same moment. 
  • cormac mclaggen grinned as soon as their eyes met, and as he sauntered over to the bar, she took a dramatic breath.
  • “is there a reason you’re here?” she asked him harshly, “i wouldn’t say this is your scene. this is also an advanced class, and i have never seen you here before.”
  • he rolled his eyes, but he still had a smirk on his face.
  • “i’m not here for pleasure. i’m here because i lost a bet to weasley. it will only be one class, i promise. i will take no joy in this easy sport. if you can even call it a sport. as for how i got into this class, you could say i’m an old friend of your instructor.”
  • lavender lifted her brows and huffed in disgust.
  • “excuse me? ballet takes a lot of work. it isn’t like we are just here twirling and being fairy princesses. and as for my instructor, i cannot believe she would screw you. she has better standards than that.”
  • cormac bit his lip, but he was still smirking. she wanted to slap the smirk off his face. 
  • and so she did.
  • he was stunned at first, until he started laughing.
  • his response to her annoyance angered her, and she felt her cheeks heat up.
  • “just fucking go, mclaggen,” she said harshly, “this isn’t a joke, and we don’t want you here unless you take this seriously.”
  • maybe it was ferocity in her eyes, or maybe it was the tone of her voice, but the smirk on his face faltered.
  • his eyes turned intense as he studied her. he didn’t say another word as their instructor came in, and for that, lavender was thankful.
  • but she was distracted the whole class. all she could feel was cormac’s eyes on her as she did her warm-ups at the bar and routines across the floor. 
  • lavender tried to escape before he could grab her attention again after class, but he was too quick.
  • his hand was gently wrapped around her upper arm as she reached for the door knob. 
  • they were the only ones left in the room.
  • “hey brown?” he said sincerely, “i just want to apologize. you were right. this was a lot harder than i imagined, and i can see it is therapeutic for you. i won’t be back. i won’t bother you anymore.”
  • she turned around to look at him. his green eyes were soft, and she noticed that he had a small scar above his right eyebrow. she wondered if it was from the battle.
  • she felt a shiver go up her spine as she thought about that day, but she quickly pushed it aside.
  • “you can come back if you enjoyed it,” she told him seriously, “i would never stop someone from pursuing a new passion.”
  • lavender watched as his lip twitched slightly, but he nodded as her words sunk in. he didn’t say another word. he just swiftly left the room. 
  • but when she arrived for class the next day, she was not surprised to see cormac mclaggen there waiting for her.
  • maybe there was more to him than she ever thought there was; maybe he needed an escape, too. for all she knew, he could have been cursed with his own demons after the war that changed everything. 
help you forget.

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

derek hale x reader (smut)

warnings: smut, some dirty talk, oral. (male receiving)

prompt: you’re pining over scott while derek pines over you. he helps you forget scott in his own way.

AN: let’s just pretend derek is still in teen wolf and he never lost his alpha title.  i’m such a sucker for alpha hale right now. 

beacon hills was a beautiful town, strange but beautiful none the less. you’d lived here your whole life, fortunately you’d managed to go most of your life without knowing what truly lurked in the dark but in the end, you were exposed to it all and fighting things nightmares were made of was a daily occurrence now.

Keep reading

i feel like i have no idea what i look like. small bits of me are these terrible puzzle pieces i use to make a cubist painting of what i could be. sometimes in the mirror i see a girl worth loving, but in pictures i see: arms, legs, nose, body. one good picture out of two hundred and forty. i felt like i looked nice this morning. i see myself in plus/minus, good hair but bad skin, crooked teeth but nice eyes, fat arms chubby body good sense of humor at least if they get past the wide forehead and every other ugly piece. i don’t know. once in a while out of the corner of my eye i see myself and i’m startled because i look nothing like what i thought i did. but then the moment shifts and i become pieces again.

prompt: “i had a nightmare about you and i just wanted to make sure you’re okay” + “hey, i’m with you, okay? always” + “do you want me to leave?” + “i think i’m in love with you and i’m terrified” + “i shouldn’t be in love with you” + “kiss me”

pairing: tony x reader

word count: 2.6k+

warnings: nightmares, 2am confessions of love, purest form of fluff

prompt list: click here

a/n: i wanna give tony all the love he deserves he’s the purest soul in this world and he needs to be reminded how wonderful he is every hour of the day x

SPOILER: THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IVE EVER WRITTEN

It was just past 2am when Y/N’s eyes shot open, her heart going 120 miles per second in her chest. Her fingers were gripping the bed sheets firmly and there was a thin layer of sweat on her forehead.

She was never one to suffer from nightmares but the dream she had just violently woken up from could surely be on the top ten list of the worst ones she ever had.

She slowly relaxed, staring up at the ceiling, still breathing heavily.

It was okay. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real.

But as she continued to look at the vast expanse of space above her head, barely being able to make out the shape of the chandelier in the pitch black room, she realised that the feeling of dread simply wouldn’t go away and allow her to go back to sleep.

Something felt horribly wrong. It was like that feeling you get right before you get your results after a test you didn’t study for. Except multiplied by twenty.

She reached under her pillow and searched for her phone, squinting at the screen as she attempted to read the time. She knew everyone in the compound was asleep but the idea of staring at the ceiling until morning, feeling this awful sense of doom, wasn’t a good idea.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” She whispered, too quiet for any person to hear.

“Yes, Ms Y/L/N?” The voice sounded through the room and as strange as it was, Y/N was glad this computer system was watching over her and would inform someone if she was in trouble.

“Do you happen to know what Tony is doing?”

“Mr Stark is currently sleeping in his bedroom. Would you like me to wake him up?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“You are more than welcome.”

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair as she pushed the covers off and sat up. She looked around her room; there was a soft beam of light coming in through the curtains that relaxed her a little but she just felt so damn alone in her room after that nightmare.

She slowly stood up and made her way to the bathroom where she splashed some water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror for a moment.

The horrid feeling just wouldn’t leave her chest. It was as if the world was closing in on her and she couldn’t do anything about it until she knew he was safe.

F.R.I.D.A.Y had told her he was. He was asleep in his room. But computers could crash and even Tony’s tech could break down every once in a while. Knowing this, Y/N also knew she wouldn’t fall back asleep until she saw he was really okay.

So she dried her face with a soft towel and shut the lights out in her bathroom before exiting her room and beginning her descent towards Tony’s quarters.

The walk was long and Y/N’s bare feet were cold as they padded across the white tiles of the hallways. She liked living in the compound but walking through it alone at night felt like wandering the halls of a hospital when everyone else was sleeping. The walls were white, the floors were white, and there were elements of steel and glass everywhere.

It wasn’t surprising; the building acted as a headquarters for one of the biggest businesses in the world and only a small fraction of it consisted of living spaces. It seemed, however, that her bedroom was miles away from where Tony’s quarters were located. She had to take a long hallway, then a set of stairs, then another hallway, and climb another two floors before she reached it. By the time she was standing face to face with his door, the feeling of dread in her chest had grown by a thousand.

She knocked softly and when she didn’t receive a response, she pressed down the handle and gently pushed open the door. Because of how new the building was, the door did not creak and Y/N was beyond thankful. She pushed it open just enough to squeeze her head through and see if Tony was around. Realising he wasn’t, she pushed the door open wider and stepped inside.

The living area of his apartment was lit up by moonlight which seeped in through the giant windows. As F.R.I.D.A.Y. had told her, Tony wasn’t on the sofa, or in the kitchen, and the door leading down to his lab was closed, meaning he wasn’t in there, either. The only place left was his bedroom.

Y/N shut the door behind her quietly and tiptoed towards where she knew his room was located, almost walking into the corner of the glass coffee table.

When she finally reached his room, she noticed the door was ajar, and just like before she stuck her head inside. She scanned the room, quickly realising that from where she was standing she could not see Tony’s bed. So she lightly pushed the door open and to her horror, the hinges creaked as if they were fifty years old. Y/N cursed under her breath because a second later Tony’s concerned voice rang through the room.

“Who’s there?”

Y/N inhaled sharply and emerged from behind the half closed door. Tony was now sitting up in his bed, the white covers bunched around his waist and his face displaying mild apprehension. Next to his bed stood one of his suits, eyes glowing, left hand outstetched, ready to fire.

“It’s just me,” Y/N murmured, seeing Tony visibly relax. He expelled a breath.

“Power down.” The suit dropped its arm, took a few steps back to stand in the corner and its eyes stopped glowing like two burning torches.

Y/N remained standing where she was, her fingers shyly curling around the hem of her pyjama shorts. She casually studied Tony’s face to make sure he was okay.

“Why are you here at…” he glanced towards the clock on his bedside table. “2am?”

Y/N hesitated, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. She could feel the softness of Tony’s white furry rug between her toes, the pleasant heat of the electric fire place burning in the corner of the room, and the innocent curiosity of his eyes as he waited for her to answer.

On top of it all, she could also feel her cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

“I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

He remained quiet for a moment but his expression softened as he studied her from across the room. She looked spooked and Tony wanted to ask her what the nightmare was about, but he figured this wasn’t the right moment. She already seemed uncomfortable after having been caught checking up on him.

“Are you okay?” She asked quietly and Tony nodded softly in response.

“Yeah, and are you?”

She bit her lip and then shook her head. And in an instant she was rushing across the room, climbing onto his bed and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“What’s wrong? What did you dream about?” He asked quietly, recovering from the shock and slowly beginning to stroke her hair. She moved to sit on his lap, her face buried in the crook of his neck, feeling so much more relaxed now that she could feel the warmth of his skin, hear his quiet breathing, his hands wrapped tightly around her. Y/N never wanted to let him go, afraid that if she did, he’d vanish like he did in her nightmare.

“It’s okay. I’m right here,” Tony assured her, honestly kind of confused by why a nightmare about something happening to him would affect her so much. They were friends, sure, but he was also friends with the rest of the team and not a single one of his other co-workers had rushed into his room at 2am because they were scared for his safety. Something felt different about this situation, and as he continued to hold her, feeling her grip him so tightly he’d find it painful if the situation was any different, Tony began to wonder why she was so shaken.

She remained sitting in his lap for minutes, and when she hiccuped quietly Tony realised she had been crying. He tightened his grip on her, threw his bed covers over her shoulders and pulled her down to lie down with him.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N apologised suddenly, sniffing a little and feeling so damn silly. But Tony wasn’t laughing at her, and he wasn’t teasing her for being an idiot. He just held her tight, let her lie down with her head on his chest and continued to stroke her hair as she attemtped to calm down.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s going to be okay.” He kissed her forehead and in response Y/N released a shaky breath and closed her eyes. It was fine. He was safe. Nothing bad had happened to him.

“It just seemed really real. I got scared that something might’ve happened to you,” she muttered into his chest, and Tony could feel her fist the fabric of his t-shirt. He kissed her head again.

“I’m alright. Nothing has happened so you don’t need to be scared,” he assured her softly, and when Y/N sniffed, Tony placed his hand over her own. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

She nodded softly, squeezing her eyes shut so that her remaining tears fell on her cheeks and then she promised herself she was fine. It was just a bad dream.

“Do you want me to leave?” She questioned, her voice barely audible but Tony was so close he heard every syllable clearly. Y/N silently hoped he’d let her stay; she didn’t want to go back to her room and sit in the daunting silence. She felt too at peace right where she was.

“Do you want to go?” He asked instead of answering her previous question and when she shook her head, Tony’s lips curved up into a soft little smile and he pulled her even closer to him. “Stay then. You’re more than welcome to.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and he kissed her head one last time before feeling her relax in his arms. Tony took this as his moment to go back to sleep so he shut his eyes and savoured the feeling of her arm draped over his stomach, her head on his chest, her legs tangled with his. She was breathing softly, the sound lulling Tony to sleep and soon he could feel himself beginning to drift off.

“Tony?”

The sound of her voice pulled him back to reality.

“Yes, dear?”

She remained silent for a moment. Y/N bit her lip and for a moment, she wished she hadn’t called his name. But she did, and now Tony was waiting for her to say something. And other than the one sentence which had been flashing in her mind like a bright neon sign for the past month, she didn’t really have anything else to say.

“I know it’s silly but…” She paused, inhaling sharply and Tony stroked her arm, scared she might cry again. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

He didn’t respond immediately and a moment of strangely peaceful silence lingered in the air. It felt good to have it off her chest and surprisingly, Y/N didn’t fear getting rejected because even if he didn’t feel the same, they’d still be friends; and that was more than enough for her. Just knowing he was happy and safe was enough for her.

The sheets rustled as Tony moved under her. For a moment she thought he was going to remove himself from the bed, but instead, he rolled over onto his side so that he was facing her, and pushing Y/N to lie on her back instead. He looked down at her and instead of lying motionless and waiting for his response as any other person would after confessing their feelings, Y/N reached up and cupped his face in her hand.

Tony’s eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into her touch. He smiled softly, and when Y/N noticed, she smiled, too. They didn’t move for several seconds, but then Tony opened his eyes, removed her palm from his face and brought the back of her hand to his lips instead.

He pressed a long kiss to the soft flesh, looking at her face while his mouth was still against her skin.

“Why are you terrified?” He asked then, his voice quiet, laced with curiosity.

“Because,” she whispered back. “I shouldn’t be in love with you. But I am, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Tony smiled at her words, turning her hand and then kissing the inside of her wrist. With each kiss he moved his lips lower, leaving at least fifteen kisses on the inside of her arm alone.

“There is one thing you can do,” he told her, and when Y/N quirked a brow, the corner of his mouth curled up. “Kiss me.”

And just like that, Y/N was reaching out to cup his face again, using what little strength she could find at 2am to pull him closer. Tony held himself above her by placing his hand on the mattress next to her shoulder and leaning down to finally capture her lips with his own.

She held his face above her, lifting her head from the pillows to bring herself closer to him, and when their mouths met, she felt all her worries evaporating into the air. Tony’s lips were soft and his breath warm on her face.

They kissed softly, their mouths meeting time after time, and soon Tony was humming quietly at the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. He reached under the covers, carefully tracing her side and cupping the back of her thigh, slowly lifting it up and wrapping it around his waist.

He wanted to feel her closer and as the tips of his fingers lightly skimmed her skin, Y/N hoped that he would never retreat.

But like most things in life, the kissing had to end sooner or later, and when both of them found themselves struggling for air, their lips parted and Tony pressed his forehead to her own. Her eyes had fluttered closed, and when Tony looked down, he noticed the shadow that her lashes had cast over the tops of her cheeks.

The room was quiet for a while with the exception of the sound of their breathing and the crackling of the logs in the fire in the corner of the room. Tony shifted his weight to one arm, still hovering above her and when she opened her eyes, he tucked a stand of hair behind her ear.

She smiled at the gesture, but then Tony leaned down and kissed her again, and her smile grew wider.

“If you’re terrified of loving me, then we can be terrified together because holding something as precious as your heart is a thousand times more difficult than any fight I’ve ever fought,” he told her solemnly, and she watched him in awe, letting a quiet giggle escape her when he kissed the tip of her nose.

“I love you, too,” he added quietly, and when she smiled, he returned to his previous position and pulled her in closer. Her head fell to rest on his chest again and this time, when they closed their eyes and began to feel themselves drift off, there was nothing at the back of their minds trying to overshadow the complete contentment they both felt.


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P.O.V (Christian Yu AMBW Smut)

This is for my friend @silhouetted-beauty I hope you enjoy it~ as well as the rest of my lovely followers. 

“C-Christian!” You cried out looking up at the male, tears of pleasure raking down your face as he shined the camera onto you, his length brushing into your abused pussy once again. He groaned watching you pull on the rope that bound your wrist together above your head. Your chocolate body covered with sweat, your hair plastered everywhere and the lust that was full blown in your pupils as you watched him. He pushed until he was fully buried inside of you.

“Come on be a big girl and take all of me. You’ve been doing well so far.” The way he spoke it to you, in that accent of his with a crooked cocky smirk had you ready to cum again. Nodding your head, you licked over your parted lips letting him bend one of your legs bad, the camera slowly tilting down to roam over your body, he wanted to capture every moment with you, watching through the lens as he slipped outside of your pussy, some of his cum escape your insides again as he pushed back inside of you causing you both to groan out in pleasure.

~

How it happened was simple, but then again nothing was too complicated when it came to the both of you. Christian came inside of your shared bedroom, plopping down next to you on the sheets he looked over to see you on your tablet swiping through the candy crush game. He waited a bit hoping that you would take notice that he was there, but when you didn’t, he became needy for your attention. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing on the skin there before trailing his lips towards your shoulder causing you to laugh.

“Christian. Don’t you know how hard this level is.” You huffed slightly trying to squirm away from him as your fingers continued to glide across the screen. You had been stuck on this level for weeks now and it seemed you were going to win but he kept fucking with you kissing on the spots he knew would make you wet in a matter of seconds.

“I love that you always play so hard to get, when we both know you’ll be under me begging me not to stop.” He teased kissing down your exposed arm towards your wrist.

“That’s the damn problem!” You insisted maneuvering away from his advance to jump off the bed. Your large shirt coming to rest past your ass, because you were too lazy to put on clothes half the time, at this moment you were shocked that you had on panties because even undergarments were a hassle. Christian chuckled watching you scurry away from him, moving to walk into the front room of the condo with a smile on his lips. He laid back on his bed looking up at the mirror pouting as he looked at his reflection, his wild curls falling everywhere.

“I’m so jealous of you.” He spoke to the mirror. “You get to see her beauty while I’m away and she never fights you off.” He almost whined like a child.

“That’s because the mirror can’t harm me.” You muttered under your breath going to drape your body across the couch. It took you a good twenty minutes before you were jumping up and shouting with joy at the fact that you beat the level. Christian who had been staring out the window drifting off to sleep stood up and treaded towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist after he did a quick check out of your body.

“I’m so proud of my jagi.” He cooed in a deep voice that was becoming raspy due to the mood he was in.

“I’m proud of me too. Hard work pays off.” You stuck out your tongue but gave in this time letting him pull you down onto his lap on the couch. He chuckled softly as he kissed your cheeks.

“Yeah being a game addict sure pays off.” He rolled his eyes tickling your sides.

“Hey! HEY! Would you rather I be addicted to someone else?!” You questioned as you gripped at his hands, he chuckled moving to lay you down onto the couch looking down at you.

“I would rather you were addicted to me.” He frowned leaning down to press soft kisses against your lips, cupping your cheeks gently.

“Mmm, getting addicted to you means that I will never let you go.” You wrinkled your nose slightly and he leaned forward to bite onto your jaw humming.

“Baby, I will take you to work with me no problem but don’t act like that’s a reason. You don’t like how weak I make you.” He gripped your chin, looking up at you with a smile. Your insides churned because he was right, but you didn’t like admitting that he had that much power over you with his cute kissable lips, and defined muscles littered with tattoos. Huffing slightly, you nodded agreeing with him but not saying the words. He only laughed louder, peppering your face with kisses before he pulled back.

“So, I’ve been thinking..” He started and you just stare at him.

“What now oh dear love of mine?” You asked in a teasing tone lifting an eyebrow, he chuckled at your teasing nature, playing in your hair.

“Well, I want to shoot a video.” He said and you didn’t know why but your just let little strings of giggles slip past your lips as you watched him until he went quiet not saying anything.

“Baby, forgive me for laughing but don’t you do that always? You just shoot two videos this week.” You brought your hand up to play in his hair as well.

“That’s not what I mean love. I want to film you.” He stated with a cocky smirk.

“I don’t sing or dance. I pole dance but that’s it.” You shrugged lightly not liking the fact that he was still smirking at you. “What!!” You asked again trying to sit up but he pulled you back down.

“I mean, okay. I want to film you. Film us while we are having sex, I want to capture it all.” He bit on your bottom lip tugging it softly.

“What- oh hell no! What if it gets leaked? What if someone breaks in and steals it and leaks it? What if you play it around your boys and they take pictures!” You were beyond anxious about what he had said to you. And hating the fact that your pussy was slightly becoming dampened from the idea of him filming the both of you.

“Hey, calm down. Baby you know that I wouldn’t leak my work, whatever happens DPR and I both go down. That’s my group too and I can’t risk that. I won’t say that I wouldn’t use a piece like maybe you on my lap but they wouldn’t be able to see your face. And if you didn’t want them to see at all they won’t see. I don’t want them needing an excuse to try and take you from me anyways. Who the hell is going to get passed Lori? She is sweet but she will be aggressive when necessary. Just like her mommy.” He cooed burying his face in your neck with a sigh. “Please baby? Please y/n. I won’t show anyone I promise, I just want to capture shit I don’t get to see when I’m so wrapped up in you. And who knows we may laugh at it. Don’t you want to see the faces we make? If the sex is as good as we think it is? You could even show me what I need to improve on.” He urged slightly pressing more kisses on your neck. You thought about it, sighing as you looked up to the ceiling. It wouldn’t hurt to try it, Christian had sometimes pissed you off but he never did anything to make you mad. You chewed on your bottom lip, looking back at him you thought for a few long minutes while he kissed on your skin. He did have a lot of shit at stake, maybe even more than you since he was the one in the limelight.

“I will seriously consider breaking up with you if you let this get out.” You promised silently grabbing his chin making him look you in the eyes to know you were telling the truth. He nodded looking at you in your eyes.

“I won’t ever hurt you baby. I promise.” You nodded your head leaning close to press your lips against his softly causing him to release a groan as he kissed you back, he moved to pull back from you and lift you up in his arms carrying your body bridal style into the room. He dropped you down onto the bed moving to grab at his video camera, turning it on letting it slowly load.

Once he had it ready he hit record placing the camera on the bed facing you. Christian watched you as he went to his computer hitting play on the ‘Movie Shoot’ song he directed with Loco and DPR Live. You laughed softly feeling your cheeks heat up as well as a rise in your heart rate. You were so nervous and he wasn’t making it any better. He walked to the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his dark blue shirt slowly letting it slide off his body. Your eyes were greedy taking in the sight before him, how he was toned and defined. Your eyes changed quickly, your teeth tucking your bottom lip between them as you watched him. He chuckled as his hands moved down to grip at his pants undoing them and pushing them down he stepped out leaving his boxers on. He reached under the bed to grab at the red bondage rope that you liked to play with sometimes. He crawled on the bed, kissing up your legs slowly switching sides as his warm large hands came to part your smooth thighs. He flicked his tongue against your panties smirking at how your hips twitched lightly. He bit onto the fabric causing you to release a shaky moan, your hands moving to comb through his hair. You watched him grip at your shirt and push it up your body until you were helping him pull it off, and throw it across the room. Your bare chest on display for him, one of your pierced nipples already puckered and past hard. He leaned down to kiss at it, your head tilting slightly because you loved feeling his lips on your skin.

He moved to let you straddle him, kissing you deeply, as your hands trailed up and down his built body over the taught muscles and ink under your fingertips. You broke the kiss to run you tongue across his neck and his adams apple going to his chest to lick across the ink. He groaned slightly as your lips continued to kiss and guide your tongue against every ounce of his tattoos that you could find. Your hips were pushing down against his, a slow grinding session between the two of you. He gripped at your hair yanking your head back so that he could suck on your skin, his hand gripping at your hips to push you down. Once he felt he was becoming too needy he flipped you over staring down at you.

“Hands up baby.” He instructed and you nodded your head, placing your hands up above your head against the headboard. He used the red rope to bind your wrist and lope around to tie it sturdily against the headboard, you looked up at the bow he knitted, seeing that you were stuck in place you made up your mind to just enjoy it. Christian leaned close kissing your lips gently, he nibbled on your bottom lip as the two of you made out, taking the kiss slow at first and let it build up to become more heated and needy. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands moved to grope at your breast, flicking his fingers against your nipples, your back arched as you moaned out, opening your mouth you let him dominate the kiss. Swirling his tongue around yours, pulling it into his mouth he nibbled on it gently pulling back with a wet pop. He kissed down your body burying his face into your neck to suck hickeys onto your skin, letting his mouth roam over all of your spot, trying to earn those sweet needy moans from your lips. Soon he was cupping your breast together letting his tongue press against the hardened buds wrapping his lips around them to give harsh sucks, he bit down lightly onto your skin, watching as your body arched and you couldn’t contain the little whimpers that left your lips as he pleased you. He let his lips trail down your body, licking and nipping around your belly button. He watched you through his wild hair that fell into his eyes, he gripped at your panties pulling them down your thighs, he let them fly across his room to join your shirt. He moved to grab at your favorite vibrator using his arms to press your legs down against the bed, he puckered his lips to blow air onto your pussy causing you to inhale sharply fisting your hands. You nodded your head telling him to continue, he gripped at the camera pulling it close to the both of you, he leaned his head down dipping his tongue inside of you slowly, he pushed it deep until he couldn’t push anymore flicking it inside of you. He moaned against your heat, thrusting his tongue in and out, curving it he searched for your spot swirling his tongue around your dripping pussy. He let his lips wrap around your pussy sucking on it, pulling his tongue from your entrance and he flicked it up and down your slit before he wrapped it around your clit, sucking harshly at it, he gripped at the camera moving it to stare at your face instead of him, he smirked happy to capture your reactions. Your hands twisting in the rope and your back arching as you looked down at him. Your thighs tried to shut, but he wasn’t having it, he nipped on your pussy lips, pulling them with his teeth. He pulled back to turn on your vibrator pressing the head against your clit, he watched as you let out a cry of pleasure, your bottom lip quivering. He moved it up and down slowly, leaning down to flick his tongue against your entrance groaning as he kissed on your pussy trying to pleasure you. He grabbed the camera placing it on his chest to film you, biting on his bottom lip he watched you as he switched the knob to medium speeding up his arm motions to make the vibrator press harder against your clit. He only kept the camera up for a bit before he was placing it back down on the bed, he moved it back to focus on both of you, slipping two fingers inside of you, he plunged them in and out of your hole, twisting them slightly he groaned watching you buck your hips up. Your pussy squeezed around his fingers, you could feel all the wetness slide out of you and onto the mattress and his fingers. Your mouth dropped open as you lay there against the headboard tugging harder on the rope throwing your head back. He made you feel so good, his fingers were thick and they stretched you out in the most delicious ways.

He made sure to always bury himself knuckles deep, making sure he was stretching you out. He let his finger slip inside of your ass giving you a shocker, feeling both of your holes up as his hand started to move faster inside of you.

“Christian please!” You shouted out, already feeling needy and ready for the foreplay to end.

“Be good.” He stated licking over his bottom lip, it was killing him too, you could see the tint in his pants but he was always focused on taking care of you. Thrusting his hand at a particular angle he hit your spot causing you to cry out.

“Like that?” He asked and you nodded your head. “Do you like that baby doll? Do you like how daddy feels both of your holes?” He questioned earning slight whimpers of yeah from your lips.

“This fucking pretty pussy takes it so well. I love your pussy so much baby.” He groaned leaning turning the vibrations on high, your hips sputtered and you felt your body react. Tightening up you released a cry of pleasure, as your orgasm swept through your body. He didn’t stop, releasing a slight growl he continued to thrust his fingers in and out of your rapidly, he watched as your body writhed under him, legs thrashing as you tried to get a reprieve. Your stomach tightened up again, your walls were clamping down on his fingers, he smirked letting his arms surge forward, his biceps were coming on display the veins in his muscles became on display. Your head rolled to the side, crying out his name as your orgasm rippled through you again, not only cumming but you were squirting as well getting his forearm wet as well as the sheets under you. Only then did he remove his fingers away from your pussy to suck on them as well as the one inside of your ass. He smirked down at you as he cleaned up his limbs flicking his tongue across your body lip. He moved off the bed, pushing his boxers down until they were at his ankles he stepped out of them, crawling back on the bed, he knocked your legs wide with his own, he gripped at his camera moving to press his cock against your entrance. He smirked as he looked down at you. “Come on, fuck yourself on me, you can push down on it.” He was stern and playful at the same time.

You pushed down on him, groaning as he entered inside of you. You pushed your hips down until you were burying him inside of you, with his help of course. Once he was inside of you, you pulled your hips back as much as you could before pushing your hips down, whining in frustration because he was living in this moment, letting the camera looking at your body bouncing on his member as he groaned, his eyes going up to your breast watching them bounce as well. He groaned shutting his eyes trying to let you do all the work but he just couldn’t leave you alone he had to have more of you. Christian gripped your hip with one hand, he started to slam inside of you causing you to scream out, your wrists were becoming raw from how you tried to move, but you loved the bite you just knew he would yell at you for harming yourself. Christian leaned down to press his forehead against yours, pressing the video camera down on the bed he used both of his hands to grip at your hips as he pulled you down onto him. You were in complete bliss, your stomach tightened harshly as you felt your orgasm approach again. You were sensitive and you felt like the sensitivity was going to make you cry.

“Christian- I’m close I can’t cum anymore.” You whimpered out screwing your eyes shut. He moved his arm to press his fingers against your clit rubbing it harshly. He was winding his hips against yours. You slowly opened your eyes to look up at him puckering your lips for a kiss, he leaned down to give it to you as your orgasm swept through your body once again, this time Christian came with you filling you to the brim as he let it held you close to his body. He groaned feeling your essence on his cock, pulling back slowly from you he watched as you shuddered and tried to calm down. He let you breathe for a few seconds, sweat sticking to his forehead, he moved to bend down pressing kisses along the curve of your hips biting into your ass cheek. Grabbing the camera, he tilted it up to the mirror, holding it there he pushed inside of you again slowly.

“C-Christian!” You cried out looking up at the male, tears of pleasure raking down your face as he shined the camera onto you, his length brushing into your abused pussy once again. He groaned watching you pull on the rope that bound your wrist together above your head. Your chocolate body covered with sweat, your hair plastered everywhere and the lust that was full blown in your pupils as you watched him. He pushed until he was fully buried inside of you.

“Come on be a big girl and take all of me. You’ve been doing well so far.” The way he spoke it to you, in that accent of his with a crooked cocky smirk had you ready to cum again. Nodding your head, you licked over your parted lips letting him bend one of your legs bad, the camera slowly tilting down to roam over your body, he wanted to capture every moment with you, watching through the lens as he slipped outside of your pussy, some of his cum escape your insides again as he pushed back inside of you causing you both to groan out in pleasure.

Christian moved slowly, in and out of you husky groans slipping past his lips as he watched himself continuing to slide inside of you. He put the camera down for the last time, he kissed up your body until his arms were wrapping around your waist and he was grinding deep inside of you. He kept it slow, letting your hips brush against each other as he buried himself with each stroke. He groaned against your warm skin, feeling his cock pulse with release but he was intent on getting you off first. His hands gripped at your ass cheeks, one finger pressing against the puckered entrance while your lips met once again. He was riding you, his hips brushing against your sensitive clit, your hands balled into fists as your pussy wrapped around cock. This round was the longest but cumming so many times back to back wasn’t easy on your body since you didn’t always go this many rounds.

You moaned for him, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist letting the heels of your foot press against his lower back. He kept thrusting, erratically and picking up the speed as he became needier. With three more strokes, he had you full out sobbing as you released for him, your hips pushing back but his hands pulled you back forward, his cock pushing so dep it hit your cervix. He spilled his cum inside of you one last time, pausing his hips as he broke the kiss to get a breath of air. Your eyes searched each other and he gave you a lazy smile pressing kisses all over your face.

“Thank you, baby.” He said sincerely nuzzling your noses together, pulling out of you he reached up to undo your wrists, turning off his camera he moved it back to his dresser, he moved to lay back beside you pulling your drained body against his playing in your hair.

“We are watching it later.” You huffed and he nodded kissing your forehead.

“Anything to keep you off candy crush.” He teased with a bright smile.

REMEMBER AT THE 1989 TOUR WHEN THE FINAL VIDEO HAD JUST FINISHED PLAYING AND IT WAS ALL DARK AND QUIET AND THEN THE SECOND THE SHAKE IT OFF DRUMBEATS STARTED THE STADIUM JUST E X P L O D E D W/ NOISE AND LIGHTS BECAUSE EVERYONE, FROM THE MOST DEDICATED STANS TO THE CHAPERONE DADS TO THE RANDOM DRUNK 40 YEAR WOMEN WHO HAD WON FREE TICKETS, EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE ROOM KNEW WHAT WAS COMING AND U JUST FELT LIKE NOTHING BAD WOULD EVER HAPPEN AGAIN BC U WERE SHAKING IT OFF WITH THOUSANDS OF STRANGERS AND U REALLY TRULY FELT LIKE MAYBE EVERYTHING REALLY WAS GONNA BE ALRIGHT

Dean’s Plaid

Summary: You and Dean do NOT get along. Until the night that you do.

Warning: smut, anger sex

Word Count: 3200

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy some Dean smut! XOXO

There are two things in the world you really hate: plaid and Dean Winchester.

There are plenty of things that you don’t like, that irritate and annoy you, that you’d rather not deal with. But those are the only two things you actively hate. A store with a window display of plaid clothing is enough to get your blood boiling these days. And Dean? Well, you make sure you never think of Dean. That just tailspins your world into a mess of violent anger for days before it wears off.

So the fact that you are currently wearing one of Dean Winchester’s plaid shirts, listening to him hum along with the radio as he drives you to his motel?

Yeah. You’re gonna need something to kill.

Or you could just kill Dean.

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The Bat(mom) Glare - Batmom x Batfamily

Summary : Everyone feels a bit…uneasy when Batmom gives them that glare.

I know I said the next fic would be about a jealous Bruce, but I had a dream last night about this story down there, and just had to write it, hoping it’s not too bad, hoping you’ll like it. As usual feedbacks are welcome ! Here 

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

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It was at the very beginning of your relationship with Bruce that you discovered your “superpower”. Before that, you never really noticed, even though it was already there…No, it really was about four months in dating the Batman that you truly realized this capacity of yours. 

You had been friend with Bruce for years, and you knew about his nightly activities since quite a while…So when he told you you two shouldn’t be together anymore because it was dangerous, you couldn’t help but sarcastically laugh and give him your best “really ?” face. 

What, all those years it wasn’t dangerous and all of a sudden, as your relationship started to get serious, it became life threatening ? 

You remember him scoffing at you, saying it had nothing to do with you and him getting “serious”, while you perfectly knew it had everything to do with it. 

Words were useless to convince him, he was such a stubborn man, and he wouldn’t listen…So you just stared at him. Glared at him. You did not turn your gaze away, you did not leave like he told you to. 

You ignored Alfred and his sorry look, when he told you to follow him out of the batcave. You ignored Bruce when he started yelling at you to leave. You just glared at him, you kept your eyes on his silhouette. Until he said : 

-Stop looking at me like that. 

You didn’t stop. Because all of this was bullshit. Because he was pushing you away for a stupid reason. Because you knew he was doing it only cause he was afraid to get too close from someone and loose them too, like he lost his parents…So you just kept staring, glaring, without saying a word. 

-Stop (Y/N), please.

He tried to keep his composure for a long time. Damn stubborn man. 

Only, on that day, he realized that you were way more stubborn than he’ll ever be. Only, on that day, he realized, as your eyes wouldn’t leave his form, he could not go on without you. But he still resisted. For appearances maybe ? Or maybe he thought you’d eventually give up. You did not. You would never give up on him, he just had to deal with it. 

-Stop…stop looking at me like that…(Y/N)…please…

His voice was cracking. You had won. He knew it. You knew it. Because the reason he was pushing you away was bullshit. Being around him was dangerous ? Well big deal, leaving in fucking Gotham was dangerous anyway ! So you stared at him, glared at him, until he gave up. 

He needed you. Your support. Your presence. He knew it, you knew it. And under your intense gaze, he realized just to what extend he loved you. 

Love ? Yes. Yes it was definitely that. An intense, deep, unbreakable bond had always existed between you…and the day he finally asked you out, it became stronger than ever. No, he would not pushing you away because things were “dangerous”. You wouldn’t let him. So you stared, and he realized…

He realized just how doomed he was because of how much in love he was with you. Too damn much, probably…But it was a good kind of curse. He was glad to be doomed of loving you…

You stopped glaring at him when he fell into your arms, all his tough and emotionless demeanor gone. You stopped glaring at him once you knew he understood. You weren’t going anywhere. Period. At least, not until he’d stop loving you (which he knew would never happen. Could never happen. Hell, he was the one afraid you’d be tired of his shit and leave…But you’d never leave). 

On that day, he realized how much you meant to him, and you realized that you had magic eyes. If, with a simple glare, you could crack even the great Batman…Yup, you discovered your “superpower” the day Bruce understood you were the one and only. The love of his life. 

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Slipped my mind

Originally posted by stylesinthewild

Anonymous asked: #37??? (’Welcome to fatherhood’)

Anonymous asked: Please could you do 99 and make it angsty if possible? Thank you! X (How could you forget your son’s birthday?)

Anonymous asked: “Welcome back. Now fucking help me.” !!

I combined all three of these and it turned into a full blown one shot.

Also special shoutout to @harryimaginedstories. She knows. 

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2

Flug has to learn a lot about his new powers as a Dullahan~ The first thing is to summon his ‘horse’ but since he is a newbie and not that skilled, it turns out to be a black paper plane ❤ 

Flug named it Gale and it dislikes Black Hat~ So whenever he makes a dumb comment or treats Flug bad, Gale will not hesitate to fly into his eye~ (hehehe!) And since it comes back again every time he destroys it, there is nothing he can so~ 

HOW TO ROLEPLAY GANGS AND EX OR CURRENT GANG MEMBERS

this guide will teach you the ins and outs of realistic gangs, roleplaying gang members, and how all of that works. almost all gang roleplays i’ve seen are so inaccurate, glamorized and romanticized. movies are not realistic. even if it isn’t a gang rp - a gang related character could be interesting in any sort of character development plot. so here we go –

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Mickey Milkovich: Character development.

1x10: “You say that again and I’ll rip your tongue out of your head.”

2x08: ‘’You think we’re boyfriend and girlfriend here? you’re nothing but a warm mouth to me.“

3x11: Not everybody gets to blurt out how they fucking feel every minute

4x11: ‘’Ian, what you and I have, makes me free. Not what these assholes know.’’

5x06: ”I’m worried about you, I love you

5x12: ‘’I love you” “It means thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit.’‘ 

6x01: ‘’I’ve been thinking about you, ever think of me?.’’ ’’Gonna wait for me?’’

7x10: ‘’I thought a lot about you inside.’’ ’’You’re under my skin, man. The fuck can I do? What can I do?”


Originally posted by arcticlightwood

My Little Girl

Summary: based on Hey Little Girl
A/N: it’s short, but I’m trying, lovies 💕

Tendrils of cold air slipped into your warm sanctuary and pulled you from sleep. “C’mere,” you mumbled, rolling toward your husband without opening your eyes. You groaned in displeasure when you found yourself on the floor, tangled in the sheets, instead of in his hold. Forcing your eyes open, you looked around the empty room in confusion. Although you woke up after he’d left for his jogs most mornings, it had been months since you’d woken to an empty bed in the middle of the night.

Worry invaded your thoughts and you stood and pushed your hair from your face. Steve’s nightmares had begun to fade after your wedding, and had disappearing since Sarah’s birth, but you couldn’t think of another reason he’d sneak from your bed. You walked into the hallway and turned toward the front of your apartment when whispers reached your ears.

You spun in confusion and followed the sound to your daughter’s room, leaning against the doorway when you reached it. Your husband stood beside the crib, Sarah in his arms. She was quiet, although you couldn’t tell if her eyes were closed or if she was asleep. He was singing quietly, bouncing her gently as he rocked from one foot to the other. The song was unrecognizable – you weren’t even sure the words were real.

Steve pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, brushing the little dark hair she had away from her eyes. He leaned over the side of her crib, and she began to whine as he moved her away from his warmth. “Hey, little girl,” he whispered, holding her upright and against his chest. “You don’t need to cry, baby girl. Daddy’s here. I’m right here.” She calmed at the sound of his voice, same as he always did, and he laid her back in her crib.

“I didn’t hear her crying?” Steve turned as you spoke, a contented smile on his face.

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Memory: I’ve burn them but I still keep the ashes in the edge of my bed.
[MEMORY HIT BACK: I’LL BURN YOU EVEN MORE]

Memory: Why do you make me feel like I had to forget you to be okay again? Why do I have to turn everything into nothing?
[MEMORY HIT BACK: STOP DRAMATIZING, IT WAS NOTHING IN THE FIRST PLACE]

Memory: On my walls are clocks from different memory lane, all going backwards. One is where i fell in love. Two is the doubt. Three is when we left each other. The rest is me trying to be okay with absence.

Memory: It has a sharp edge and it glides always from the good one to the bad one until everything’s bad now. Everything’s bad now but I let it glides all over me every time.
[MEMORY HIT BACK: YOU ARE THE ONE WHO HOLD THE END OF THIS KNIFE. YOU ARE THE ONE WHO GLIDES ME]

Memory: I’m sorry but I need to evict you out of this room. You’re taking too much space. Been awhile since the last time you pay rent. I had too much of the better things lately. I had no space left for you.
[MEMORY HIT BACK: THANK GOD, THIS ROOM IS A BAD PLACE]

—  hazyaffection // I HAD A TALK WITH MEMORY, I SAID IT’S BEEN A PLEASURE, PLEASE GET OUT

anonymous asked:

Peter and tony "Don't you /dare/ say I don't care about you!"

 “Don’t say a word,” Tony said firmly, as they both stood face-to-face in the remains of Loki’s destruction, “not a single fucking one.”


Peter shuffled, opening his mouth a fraction, but Tony jerked forward, hand outstretched and a metal finger pressing against his lips, “not a single word, Peter, what part of that do you not underst- no, no, wait, never mind, don’t-”

“I understand all of it, I just sometimes really need to say things and want to know why exactly they’re happening, like now all I want to know is why I’m supposed to be keeping my mouth shut, although actually I think I’ve worked it out after saying all of this,” Peter babbled, eyes growing steadily wider the further he delved into his own sentence.

He hadn’t…. he hadn’t meant to say any of that. That had been a brain-thought, not a mouth-thought. What the fuck? “Loki- did he put a spell on us?”

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed irritably, “yes- and now if either of us asks the other a question, we will answer 100% truthfully with no filter whatsoever, so until this thing wears off, we keep our sentences completely questionless. Completely. No exceptions. ”

Peter paused for a few seconds, before blurting “I’ve never been put under a spell before. This is kinda awesome. Oh- it doesn’t hurt to remove them, does it? Oh, wait, shit, question-”

“It depends on the spell, and the emotional connection you have with it. For instance, I once got a touch-telepathy spell put on me in the middle of a fight and then had to hold a little boy while he died, which was incredibly painful, but just for different reasons- and Peter Parker I would like you to know that I fucking hate you, what do you not understand about ‘no questions’- oh, Jesus Christ-”

“Like I said, I understand all of it, but I’m not used to thinking too carefully about what I say, I mean, what if- no, shit, question word, okay….uhm,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think how best to ask a question without asking a question, “The inflections of our voice might even affect whether we perceive it to be a question, I assume,” he said slowly.

“Yes,” Tony nodded, and then sighed again, “let it be known that I really fucking hate Loki. I thought we were done with this nonsense. I thought I wasn’t going to have any more issues with doing dumb shit under the influence of magic in front of other people. Jesus Christ. Hope you’re happy, asshole,” he muttered, looking up at the sky before turning on his heel and surveying the damage the Trickster god had left behind.

“I am, actually,” Peter said, and Tony swung back around, eyes wide, but Peter was off again, and there was no stopping him, “I always get a rush after fights that don’t end with any deaths, and generally speaking, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier with life.”

He slapped a hand over his mouth, cheeks reddening. Tony looked at him a little awkwardly, before nodding. “Right. Cool. I’m… I mean, I’m glad you’re happy. Although I was actually trying to talk to Loki.”

Peter nodded. “I was aware. I don’t… I don’t know why I said that.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, so it’s not just for questions that are directed at us, then? Interesting. Annoying, but- interesting.”

Peter shuffled on his feet. “So how long does it take for the spell to wear off? And what should I do when I’m around people? Sorry- I have to ask,” Peter said apologetically, and Tony huffed, but shrugged immediately after.

“Usually about 24 hours for the spell to wear off. You’re lucky it’s a Saturday, or you’d have to go to school with that shit. As it is, you can just stay with me, if you want. Or you can go home and tell Aunt May what’s happened.”

Peter thought about going home- about how many questions May always asked him when he stepped through the door, which he always veiled, just a little. The thought of him being 100% truthful to some of the questions she asked…

He shuddered in horror. “I think I’ll stay with you, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it’s alright, I love having you around,” Tony said immediately, and then clenched his eyes shut, “oh, Jesus Christ, I hate truth spells. They are the fucking worst ones. Just… just shut up and hop on, kid,” he said gruffly, opening his arms.

Peter was about to say something, but he decided against it as he stepped into Tony’s hold. There was currently an 87% chance it would go badly- which was a good 43% higher than his average rates. 


The ride back was silent as expected, and when Tony dropped them on the roof, he pulled out of his suit immediately and turned on his heel. “Food in the kitchen, films on JARVIS, knock yourself out. I’m going to be ignoring you in the workshop- you come down there for nothing other than the fact that you are close to imminent death. And I mean imminent. If you are dying, but slowly, it can still wait.”

“Can’t I just come down to the workshop and be quiet?” Peter called out after him.

“Peter, you don’t know what the word ‘quiet’ even means. I’ve asked you not to speak like, 19 different times in the past ten minutes, and you have listened on exactly 0 occasions.”

“I can be quiet!” Peter called, but Tony had hopped down the stairs without looking back, and Peter was left on the roof.


He sighed. This was going to be a fun weekend.



3 films, a seasons of Brooklyn 99 and exactly one empty kitchen later, and Peter was just about ready to start jumping off the walls in boredom.

He wanted to go and see Ned. But that would just be a travesty in every single way, knowing his friend’s track record of secret-keeping mixed in with his never-ending stream of question asking.

God, he was only 14 hours into this shit. 

The clean-up crews were working out on the streets- Peter could see them through the huge glass windows, and he sort of wished he could join them, but again, social situations were a bad idea at that point in time. 

Goddamn Loki. Peter really didn’t like that guy. He’d already tried to destroy New York once before- and now here he’d come again, years later, doing nothing more than annoy both Tony and Peter for a couple of hours before disappearing, leaving them both with an irritating truth spell as a parting gift.

Asshole.


Groaning, he flicked the TV on to the news and flopped backward into the couch. It was the usual post-battle breakdown, this time with a woman standing in front of a particularly grim-looking pile of rubble, face sad as she stared into the camera.

“And once more, I am stood amongst what remains of a local supermarket, staring around me and wondering- where are the superheroes now?”

Peter rolled his eyes. Right. So it was one of those news channels. He should really turn it over, it wasn’t going to offer anything worthwhile.

At that moment, there was a hissing noise behind him, and Peter’s head turned, watching Tony as he slipped through the doors and headed to the kitchen. He waved absently in Peter’s direction, but didn’t stop to talk as he padded over to the open-plan kitchen behind Peter.

“You’d think, what with Iron Man’s lesser half being the great Tony Stark, that there’d be some funding going into the rebuild of some of these buildings, but so far, as always, the billionaire has yet to declare-”

“What bullshit,” Peter muttered, turning back to the screen and staring in disdain. Everyone knew how much Tony put in- he’d been cleaning up after the Avengers since the Battle of New York. “Who the hell do these people think they are?”

It wasn’t directed at Tony, but he must have heard it, because Peter heard the man clearing his throat to begin talking, “they’re reporters, Peter, and I’m just the target. I’m easy. They need something to base their stories on.”

Peter stopped, face scrunching up incredulously, “but you do so much for them! You fought for them in the Superhero Civil War! Why would they-”

God, he really had to work on keeping his conversations question free.

“Because no-one cares about the guy behind the IronMan faceplate, kiddo,” he said with a shrug, and then scowled, “God, Peter, you really don’t have a filter, do y-”

“I care,” Peter said indignantly, turning around fully now, back to the couch as he stared across the room and over to Tony, who was staring at him with slightly raised eyebrows.

It didn’t last long, though. Tony’s face fell a little, and he shook his head. “Right. Sure. Just… just turn the channel over, Peter-”

“Wait, do you think I’m ly- no, no, wait, sorry, you don’t have to answer-”

But Tony was already going off, mug clutched tightly between tired fingers as he glared mutinously at Peter, “of course you don’t, kid, you like me because I’m cool and I get you fancy gear, but you don’t…not really. I’m not an easy one to care for- you know that. Why do you think everyone’s left? Once the defects in my personality start outweighing the pros of my money or my influence, it stops being so fun.”


There was dead silence, where Tony just looked over at Peter, mouth hanging open in mortification. Peter was staring at him, completely shocked by what he’d just heard.

Did Tony really think….


“Jesus,” the man muttered for the billionth time, swallowing heavily and turning away, thrusting his cup back on the sideboard, “okay, well, good talk, let’s never do that again-”

And then he was speedwalking out, leaving Peter sat, stunned, on the couch, emotions growing in his stomach until he felt like he might explode with them.


What the hell? What the goddamn hell-


He jumped off the couch angrily, storming after Tony, who’d almost made it to the stairs down the corridor by that point. “HEY!” He yelled at the rapidly moving body ahead of him, and Tony jerked a little, stopping in his tracks to look over at Peter in surprise. The tone of voice, the anger in it, probably came as a bit of a shock to him.
It sort of came as a surprise to Peter too, to be honest, 

“What the hell?” Peter asked incredulously, flinging his hand out, “what the hell did you just say? Did you just try and tell me you don’t think I don’t care?”

“Peter, stop asking-”

“Tony, you’re so stupid! Why do you think I like hanging out at the tower so much- and no, not just the workshop, the kitchen and the living room and the gym, why do you think I do that?”

“Well, I mean, I’d guess it was just so you could-”

“Why do you think I call you when I get into trouble, or always ask you for advice, or how I text you after every scuffle I get into because I know that you worry if I don’t, I know it Tony-”

“I- I, well, I mean I just kind of assumed you were being polite? I-”

Peter choked, lip curling in exasperation. “Tony. You are a walking disaster and you worry stupid amounts about me, and you don’t understand boundaries very well and you can annoy the damn hell out of me- and you’re always, always there for me when I need you. You matter to me, Tony, for God’s sake, you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a dad. Since I met you I feel like I’ve got someone else I can rely on, which is a pretty fucking big deal to me, because all I had before was Aunt May, and I love her to pieces but it was difficult for the both of us - so don’t you dare try and tell me I don’t care, because it just makes you sound like a fucking asshole.”


Peter breathed deep, clenching his jaw and dropping the finger that had risen to point accusingly over at Tony, who was stood rigidly a few feet in front of him. His eyes were blown wide, mouth hanging open a little, and his eyebrows were almost at his hairline, they were raised that high.

No one said anything. Peter sighed, feeling the anger leaving him as suddenly as it had come. He just felt tired. Truth spells weren’t as fun as he’d previously imagined.

Tony was still staring a little incredulously, and then he jerked. A full-body spasm, like he couldn’t quite compute what he’d just heard. Peter just shook his head. “Sorry. Know you didn’t want me to ask you questions. I’ll just… yeah,” he gestured behind him and then turned away, heading back over to the living room with heavy feet.


A few seconds, later, there was the quiet hissing of the door as it shut behind Tony.



“Ask me why I said it,” Tony entered the room with a few hours later, and Peter turned, watching him march up to Peter and fold his arms stubbornly.


Peter stopped, frowning, before he realised what Tony was talking about and tensed up. “Tony, just let it g-”

“Just ask me, Peter, dammit,” Tony said again, loud and a little jerky, like he wasn’t quite sure of how to hold himself, but was giving it his best shot anyway.

Peter bit his lip. He didn’t want to drag this out any further than it needed to be- 

“Peter,” Tony said, a little gentler this time, and Peter knew him well enough to know that there was an eye-roll he was trying to hold back on committing to as he looked down toward the couch, “can you let me explain myself? Please?”

Silence, again. Peter folded his arms. Tony mirrored him. 

They stared stubbornly at one another.


“Why did you say it?” Peter asked, quieter than he’d intended.


Tony clenched his jaw, and then with a little spasm, he opened his mouth. “I haven’t known a lot of people who’ve been genuine with their affection before. I’m an asshole and I push people away a lot because I don’t want them to hurt me. But…I can’t afford to push you away, or be too much of an asshole to you, because you’re a kid and you need me. So I’m just waiting for you to lose interest, instead. I can’t get rid of that sort of thought-process, but I am trying. Therapy and everything, it’s fucking gross, but… you need someone reliable. I need to be better. For you. Because- I - uh, I mean….”

Tony broke off, running a hand through his hair and huffing in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.  “You matter to me too. A lot. Uh- and I know Aunt May is your proper guardian and everything, but- but… well, I- uhm, I still consider you my own. Kid. Yeah. So…”


Tony shifted backward and forward on his feet, and he was actually blushing in embarrassment, which was a first. Peter just stared, a little shellshocked. He hadn’t been quite sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Right,” Tony choked out, nodding robotically and then taking a step back, “that was entertaining, shall we both just agree to never talk to one another ever again-”

He turned on his heel, doing his little speedwalk thing toward the elevator as Peter stared at his back. 

“Wait,” he blurted from the couch, getting unsteadily to his feet and then vaulting the couch, stumbling toward Tony, who had turned a little to face him.


Running up to him, Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s shoulders and hugged. Tight. Tony stumbled a bit, and his hands wavered about in the air for a few seconds before settling lightly on Peter’s shoulder blades. “Right. Cool. Okay, hugs, then. That’s good. Healthy. Or so I’ve heard, anyway-”

“Thank you,” Peter said, breaking through the nervous ramble and squeezing Tony’s shoulders tightly, “that must have been hard.”

Tony shrugged “Eh, truth spell, you know-”

“Tony,” Peter rolled his eyes, letting go and pulling away so Tony could see it, “you really think I wasn’t counting down? The spell ended 15 minutes ago.”

Tony raised his eyebrows, and he pulled a face. “Shut up, it’s called being emotionally healthy.”

“If you think that’s emotionally healthy, you need a new therapist.”

Tony shoved him off with a muttered swear, and Peter laughed. “Are you going to come out of your workshop now?”

“No.”

“Can I come into your workshop?”

“No.”

“I’ll go get my shoes,” Peter said with a smile, patting Tony on the shoulder, “can you get the specs up for my suit? I have a few things I think might need tweaking.”

Tony sighed. “You’re a spoilt brat!” he called out as Peter turned back and went for the shoes that were strewn across the living room, but he pulled out his phone and started tapping at it as he turned back in the direction of the workshop, and Peter knew that the rest of the evening would pass as they worked on his suit.


He could think of worse ways to spend his weekend.

having a mental illness is so wild bc like some days u just wake up like ‘oh hey look at that my body doesn’t belong to me again, let’s just… ignore that and hope it goes away lmao’ or spend days feeling every little thing like your emotional intensity’s been dialled up to eleven and then feel absolutely nothing for days or have a full on emotional crisis and want to die but you can’t feel any severity in the situation bc that’s just how things always are?? basically what i’m tryna say is it’s scary as hell and i sure as hell did not sign up for this

A Series of Unfortunate Events : the recipe to a good adaptation

This is a short analysis of the recent adaptation A Series of Unfortunate Events by Netflix. I will not mention everything here, it would require much more time and analysis but here is a general appreciation. Careful for spoilers !

Adaptations are quite tricky to accomplish because being true to the original work while bringing novelty to the piece is not so easy. The best adaptations are often the ones that manage to channel the spirit of the original work. A Series of Unfortunate Events is a very successful example of this. It was already visible in the first trailer where Lemony Snicket actually walks on the set of the filming to tell us not to watch this series. Right here, you have three core elements of the original series : our narrator-character, the breaking of the fourth-wall and the plea not to look into this horrific story. That last element actually is a known way to catch the reader/viewer’s attention and make him want to know more.

When it comes to A Series of Unfortunate Events, the character of Lemony Snicket is crucial. Therefore the adaptation needs to be perfectly true to his features. As a child, I really believed Lemony Snicket was this mysterious author hidding from malevolent authorities. The fact that Lemony is actually out of the story ,since he is the author/narrator, and a full part of it builds the whole myth around this series.
When I saw the movie, I did not get that feeling of mystery around Lemony mainly because it is not cleary explicited that he is part of all this : the viewer doesn’t see on-screen any important hint that Lemony is a central character of the story, he is presented above all as the writer.
In the Netflix series, Lemony is the first person the viewer visually encounters, just like in the books. The fact that you can see him entirely makes him a reassuring presence throughout the show : he is your guide. The show stages this aspect very cleverly by blending Lemony in the situations the Baudelaires find themselves in, usually through his costume.

Thanks to this process, the narrator’s role is fully depicted. A narrator that addresses directly to the reader/viewer is usually out of the story and Lemony is indeed “out” since he is telling the events. But Lemony is also “in” as an important character. The show drops hints along the way which keep getting bigger gradually : his investigation, the letters to Beatrice, the fact that he is being chased, among other things, and of course the reveal of the picture with Olaf in the last episode.

All these proofs show that Lemony really is involved in this story. It is very fortunate that they kept the dedications to Beatrice at the beginning of each segment of the story because she is the one who ties Lemony to the story. She actually acts as his muse, she is the main reason why he writes, the name Beatrice being a reference to Dante’s own muse.
Since he is an « in-between » character, literally the bridge between you and the story, Lemony is the one who constantly breaks the fourth-wall. This aspect is so crucial in A Series of Unfortunate Events. It allows Lemony to act as the antic chorus or Prologue : “If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book. In this book, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle.” (The Bad Beginning).
With those few lines, the essence of the plot is completely laid before your eyes, just like the ancient tragedies. In the series, apart from those lines, the opening song has the exact same role : “Every single episode is nothing be dismay.”
The breaking of the fourth-wall is also at the core of both series because story-telling mecanisms are explained through it. In the Reptile Room, Lemony explains the dramatic irony which is then again an aspect of the antic tragedies. As I remember it, the book series crossed the fourth-wall to teach something to the reader : a word, writing techniques and less straightforwardly, literary references. All these elements were fortunately brought into the show as well.

Now Lemony is mainly the one to break the wall, as allowed by his narrator status. What is unsettling for the viewer is when Count Olaf breaks it, usually to advertise the TV show and stare at the camera for a couple of seconds. This leads to the other important aspect of an adaptation : the creativity. The writers did not only represent Olaf, they actually add depths according to the new medium : what would Olaf do if he was in a TV series ? Break the fourth-wall and sing its opening sequence !

A short word on the amazing cast, especially Neil Patrick Harris who pulled out a very good Count Olaf. This character is very complex to play, he needs the right amount of villainy, humor and the talent of an actor who can play a character playing other characters. Jim Carrey brought too much of his own eccentricity to the character and you saw more of the actor than of the character. Neil Patrick Harris really understood and nailed all of Olaf’s facets.

Hence adaptations would be rather dull without creativity and novelty.
Sure a lot of dialogues are actually taken word by word from the books because they are good as they are but an adaptation needs to adapt precisely even more when the media is different.

A book and a  TV show are of course very different mainly because of the images. In a book, a description can only be completed by the reader’s imagination. In a show, what you see allows very little space for imagination. This is why a successful adaptation is one that can get the spirit, the ambiance of the world, conveyed by the original words, and transcripts it on screen. From the language of worded images to the language of filming.

The unsettling ambiance, the faded colours and surreal pastel imagery are very fitting for the Baudelaires’ story. The main aspect of the series is its dark humor and stories that you find rarely in children’s book : one death if not more per book, usually a gruesome one. The TV show manages to render the baudelairian world : this very specific atmosphere, the feeling of being oppressed by all the places in which the Baudelaires find themselves.

Finally the most important aspect of an adaptation is that it must appeal to all audiences.What is complicated about making adaptations is that they are received by two different audiences : the one who knows the original material and the one who doesn’t and their first interaction with the original universe is through the adaptation.
That’s why getting the atmosphere right is so important, it shows the specificities of the work in another way which should not “betray” the original story.
An adaptation is full of references that will be immediately recognized only by the ones familiar with the original piece. These references show the adaptors love for the original work and also creates a complicity between them and the well-aware viewer. Which book lover did not scream at the sugar bowl in episode 2 or at those four simple words : the world is quiet here ?The beauty of references is that they are hidden, they could be seen as completely normal by an unaware viewer : the scene of the sugar bowl seems very innocent.

It allows the adaptors to play on what the reader already knows. Take the first appearance of the Quagmire mother and father: most of the book readers thought them to be the Baudelaire mother and father even though they know very well it is impossible. This builds up until the revelation in the first part of the Miserable Mill. Not only this plays with the well-aware reader but also stages already the Quagmire trio and most of their backstory. Being already intertwined since the first episode with the main story, they meet naturally at the end of the season and do not appear previously unmentionned like in the books.

As thrilling as this is, if the adaptation is only met for the experts, it won’t be a total success. An adaptation also needs to speak to new viewers who have no knowledge of the original work. This is why there is a need for balance of references so the newcomer will not spent his time on Wikipedia trying to figure out what happens. How the series introduced right away the Quagmires is actually rather clever : it allows the newcomer not to be lost in all the key characters.

Lastly, this show really catches the core humor of the original work by playing on the fact that it is an adaptation and therefore needs to depart sometimes from the original sequences. At the beginning of the Miserable Mill (episode 8), Mr. Poe freaks out because the Baudelaires are gone and in the middle of his panicked speech, he says : “It’s off-book !’. And indeed it is, because in the books the Baudelaires don’t go to Lucky Smells Lumbermill by themselves but are brought there by Mr Poe. An adaptation makes choices and the show plays on that aspect.

Of course, this show would need a 300 pages-long essay because of all the references and allusions not only to literature but also foreshadowing the main story. This show completely smashes the movie adaptation which did not manage to really transcript well neither the atmosphere nor the characters.

Remember, an adaptation is not a search of perfection because it will never be exactly like the original material. The change of medium requires changes in the story and the story-telling. The intelligence with which the choices are made makes all the difference between a good and a bad adaptation.

bpd isn’t just simple ups and downs
it’s not just depression or anxiety
it’s having total breakdowns for the most ridiculous reasons
feeling like your life is over for practically no reason
and crying over the smallest things
it’s having one of the highest suicide rates 
it’s complete self invalidation, neurosis bordering psychosis
feeling like you’re being torn in all kinds of directions
it’s your own mind making you believe no one cares
even when people keep telling you they do
it’s the illusion that you’re worthless and you don’t fit in
that perhaps you’ll never fit in no matter what
it’s so much more than what people think it is
it’s the fear of abandonment we struggle with
whenever we think we’re being ignored
it is horrible and makes you feel like you’re drowning
like you have fallen into a body of water and you can’t reach the surface
no matter how hard you try, it doesn’t matter
like you’re trapped in a tiny room without any opening
it makes you want to die, but also you don’t want to die
it’s everything but fun, it’s not something hip
people shouldn’t use it as a label to be special
it’s nothing but bad and those dealing with it have to be incredibly strong
simply to make it through the day, every single night
dealing with the same thing again and again
time and time again it’s the same old battle and it never changes
by saying you have bpd when you do not have it, just to stick out
you’re making the stigma so much worse, you’re making it worse for those
who actually struggle with this disorder every single day

as someone who deals with bpd myself
I am incredibly proud of those of us that don’t give up
it’s beyond difficult and I know
we all know a bpd life is very difficult
and at times seems worthless but it’s not
even a bpd life is worth living for
we too deserve happiness, and I believe we will find it
if only we don’t back down
you might think you’re worthless but you’re not
you’re a brave person, a beautiful soul

stop running.

Originally posted by blastberuffled

pairing: klaus mikaelson x reader

warnings: swearing + drinking.

prompt: running into an old flame while visiting mystic falls.

A/N: i’ve had no internet for two weeks and all i wrote in that time was this really lame klaus fluff. (i’m really into him right now, oh god.) send me requests!

your heels crunched against the gravel as you walked, not really knowing where to go but knowing exactly what you wanted - to get black out drunk and forget today even happened. it was bad enough that you were back in mystic falls, a town you’d sworn to stay away from but the run in with damon salvatore was enough to make you bitter.

you understood the fascination with the older brother, you couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive, insanely attractive really but as soon as the man opened his mouth to say quite literally anything, you wanted to eat a bullet. he was cocky and arrogant, two traits you simply couldn’t find attractive in a man that didn’t have that much to offer in the first place. you didn’t even want to mention the pathetic obsession he had with the doppelganger - really, it was all enough to make you barf.

Keep reading

(I started thinking about this bc @idontwanttogobacktoreality made a post. Thanks for your thoughts!!)

Every once in a while, I see a complaint from somebody demonizing YOI because it doesn’t include homophobia or racism or whatever other thing, and uhm, no

To be clear, Kubo and staff have said the YOI takes place in a homophobia-free universe. Cool, fine, good. But I see people sometimes saying the YOI isn’t proper representation and completely disregarding the series because of this. Like fine, you can have an opinion; I’m not prying your eyelids open and forcing you to watch anime, but to say that YOI isn’t “proper” representation or that it contributes nothing is completely misguided. 

First of all, a show–or any piece of media, really–that has a queer couple and/or character in it doesn’t have to relegate itself to being about discrimination. Sure, it can, and it’s absolutely important that there are cultural records of the awful shit happening in the world. But our lives are more than that. We’re more than the hate directed towards us. We’re all individuals with our own problems, perspectives, preferences. Why should every story including us have to essentially be a form of torture porn? 

For those who don’t know, the term ‘torture porn’ is used in cinematic circles to describe a subgenre of horror film that deliberately focuses on graphic depictions of torture, gore, violence, etc etc. That doesn’t mean any film with gore in it, it means a piece that has no real plot, emotional depth, or suspense; it’s only about suffering, plain and simple. Think of things like Bloodfeast (1963)–one of my personal fav b movies actually–the Saw series, and Hostel: Part II (2007). Films like Evil Dead 2 (1987), however, are splatstick because of the comedic tone. 

I make this comparison because if every single story with queer characters and couples only focused on the suffering of these people, then it just becomes an emotional–and sometimes physical–form of what I explained above. If it has nothing going for it but that, then the story is nonexistent, plot is flat, the characters are caricatures rather than people, etc etc. Again, it’s not a bad thing to portray stories like this. But it’s important to keep in mind that we experience more than hate and romanticized depression. 

Anyway, my point is is that YOI has a complex story on its own. Yuuri and Victor are people, not romanticized caricatures. They have their own problems separate from discrimination, and that’s so important in normalizing queer people and relationships. I mean, honestly, if we keep portraying queer people as “outsiders,” how are we going to get anywhere? 

I was talking to my mother about this, and she made a great point: not only is the show a great step for normalizing queer relationships–especially since younger generations will be able to see it–but it’s also a wonderful blueprint of what the world could be. It’ll take time, and work, but this is a place we can get to. People can love and be themselves and hold their identities proudly instead of repressing and hiding out of fear of assault or even death. 

If we don’t have a map, we’ll lose our way. YOI is a piece of the map to lead us to a better, kinder world. 

This show has worth, and it means things to people, whether you think so or not. Opinions don’t change the reality.